


Lost Bodies, Buried Souls

by SerenitysSwirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cameos, Death References, F/M, Gen, Humanstuck, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenitysSwirl/pseuds/SerenitysSwirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aradia Megido is an orphan who can see and communicate with the recently deceased. People often think maybe she enjoys matters in death a little <em>too</em> much. </p>
<p>Gamzee Makara just killed the few closest people to him. He knows he needs to blend in, but he just <em>loves</em> to kill.</p>
<p>Together, they make an excellent alliance.</p>
<p>(This probably won't be too bloody, but if you're sensitive to that stuff, then be warned.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dead Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> This is my FIRST EVER fanfic that I've posted, and I'm pretty excited about it! I don't usually let a lot of people read my writing, so this is a pretty big step. Sorry for any bad characterization. Constructive criticism is encouraged! Please don't be afraid to comment! (Also, Gamzee/Aradia won't be too terribly shippy until the end, and Sollux/Feferi doesn't come in until later on, and they still won't have a whole lot going on there, so this fic doesn't really have a lot of romance, just FYI.)

Aradia Megido kneels between two matching slabs of stone, her giggling cutting through the otherwise calm air. A serene smile sets itself on her face. She loved visiting her parents. They could always make her laugh, no matter what.

“You’ve grown so much,” Aradia’s mother says for the tenth time that morning. Aradia noted how they would sometimes get awfully repetitive if she stayed too long.

“Yes,” she responds, “I know mom.” Aradia stretches her legs in front of her, soaking up the strong Sunday sun. A cool breeze follows her father as he stoops down next to her. 

“Thank you for seeing us, Ara. You’re growing into a beautiful young woman! Now tell us, how is Damara holding up?” Aradia squirms at her father’s question, picking up a daisy from its bundle.

“Damara’s doing fine,” she says curtly, “she just…doesn’t understand.”

Mrs. Megido grabs her daughter’s hand and begins giving her soothing strokes. Aradia sighs, shivering at the sudden temperature drop.

“Oh honey,” her mother coos, “she’ll come around. Family should always stick together. Besides, not everyone can be as faithful as you!”

Beaming, Aradia wraps her arms around her parents, engulfing herself in their chilly comfort. They stay in place for a few minutes until the sound of footsteps makes the family look up in unison. Two men wielding shovels walk nearby, starting to dig in an empty area of ground.

“Ara,” Mr. Megido says, watching carefully, “who’s going there?”

The crunch of metal sinking into earth acts as a background to Aradia’s voice as she says, “Oh, that’s for Vriska. I never really liked her, but her sister Aranea volunteers at the orphanage, and she’s really nice.”

The trio sits there in a content silence as the warm sun reaches its peak. Aradia blinks, then squints at her parents, surprised to find them still there and as solid as ever. Her mother catches her gaze and grins. She glides to sit behind Aradia, who straightens up as cold fingers run through her silky, coal black hair. Closing her eyes, she relaxes.

It was only until she hears her name being called from the distance that Aradia wakes up. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours, but her side ached nonetheless from resting on the hard ground for so long. Sitting up, Aradia realizes her parents have already left.

“Aradia! There you are! Hurry up and get dressed, the funeral is only in an hour,” Aranea Serket stands in front of the younger girl, offering a hand which Aradia accepts. Aranea had obvious signs of emotional wear and tear; bloodshot eyes, shaky movements, slight frown replacing her usual smile. She wore a black dress and flats, which was a big difference from her usual cheerful colors and blue eye shadow. In all honesty, Aradia felt bad for the girl. Or, she would have if she wasn’t so infatuated with death.

Nodding, Aradia accompanies Serket down a paved path after readjusting the daisies so that they’re propped up on each of the tombstones. In silence the two girls walk past rows and rows of upright rocks and statues. Aradia occasionally reaches up to pick a leaf off of an overhanging branch, but tries her best to hide her excitement. Funerals were truly the greatest.

Exiting the graveyard, Aranea walks Aradia down the street to the orphanage, then turns back around to return to the funeral home. Unable to stifle her smile any longer, Aradia bounds into the building and hurries up the stairs, two steps at a time.

With no signs of her roommate, Aradia closes the door, strips, and changes into her nice black dress (the one _without_ holes around the ankles). Sitting down in front of her mirror, she suddenly wishes Kanaya was with her instead of at the funeral home to help her with her mess of hair. Grabbing her brush and bracing herself, Aradia begins the long task of grooming her stubborn locks.

Aradia finishes about fifteen minutes ahead of time (hair styled into a manageable ponytail), but figures people were probably getting there early anyway. Slipping into her ratty red sneakers, Aradia steps out of her room, noticing a few other children getting ready to leave also. No one at the orphanage knew Vriska that well besides Kanaya, but everyone adored Aranea, so were most likely attending the open casket ceremony for her support.

Taking her time down the stairs, Aradia drags her hand across the wooden banister. She was always quite the oddball; all too eagerly keeping her eyes open during gory movies, looking on the bright side of practically every seemingly dismal subject, talking to people no one else could see. Of course, Aradia tried to be considerate of other’s feelings. Still, she always got a little carried away at funerals. She’d been kicked out of the last one she was at for pulling out a party popper as the coffin was being lowered. After that, Aradia decided it was best to take a little break.

Pulling herself out of her daydream, Aradia notices the funeral home in front of her. To anyone else, they’d have thought the establishment had a dreary air about it. Aradia thought it looked rather pleasant in the cozy afternoon light, surrounding weeping willows throwing shadows on the old brick structure.

Aradia enters cautiously to be greeted by Aranea and her mother, looking equally somber. She nods politely to both of them, then continues into the next room, glancing at the people roaming about.

“No no no no NO! Who did this makeup? It is aaaaaaaall smudged! Ugh, it isn’t even the right SHADE!” Aradia whips around to the sound of the shrill voice to find a slightly transparent Vriska leaning over her own coffin. She hurries up beside the fuming girl and peeks into the casket.

“You’re right,” Aradia says quietly, “That is most definitely turquoise, not cerulean.”

“THANK you! At least _some_ —wait, what?”

Aradia amuses herself with Vriska’s shocked face, allowing the other girl to sputter in confusion until she can explain. “I can see people who’ve recently died.”

The youngest Serket stares at her, dumbfounded. “Wait, you mean—” Vriska thinks for a second, “actually, that makes a lot of sense. You were always such a weirdo about death and all that crap.”

Glaring, Aradia tries grabbing Vriska’s arm, but is surprised to see her hand glide right through. The other girl snorts, “I’m a ghost, Megido, did you really think you could just grab me?”

“Well I usually can when it comes to my parents. We must have a stronger connection than you and me. I _have_ been seeing them for about a year, you know.”

“No, no I didn’t know, otherwise I would have talked to you even less! Always knew there was something freaky about you.”

Aradia sighs, moving out of the way of the coffin so that others can get through. Shaking her head, she finally replies with, “Whatever, Vriska. I’m just excited to see another spirit! I haven’t had much experience to talk to anyone else who is dead and—”

“Aradia, um, maybe you should step outside for a bit.” The two girls look up to see Aranea standing there, looking concerned and a little frightened.

“Aw, hey there sis! Can ya’ get someone to change my makeup? I _swear_ if I get buried in that shit, Megido.” Aradia has to concentrate to talk over Vriska’s ranting.

“Oh, I…I think I might do just that, thanks Aranea!” Aradia grins and starts to step away before turning back and saying, “And could you maybe get someone to fix up Vriska’s eye shadow and change it to a more cerulean color? I think she’d appreciate that.”

Aranea nods, her mouth dropped open, as Aradia heads towards the exit. “Hey Megidork!” She turns back at Vriska’s call. “Thanks.”

Smiling, Aradia shoots Serket a double pistols and a wink. She turns around and heads outside, taking in a deep breath. There was something…odd in the air. Aradia heads down the street and stops at an alleyway.

At first, nothing seemed out of place. That was until she notices a hunched figure sitting in a small sliver of shadow. The person looks up at her gasp with a look of fear and surprise. Aradia can only catch a glimpse of blood before the lanky individual stands and leaves.

 

It was only that morning that Gamzee had fled from his house, taking only a duffle bag of clothes and a hefty wad of money. He decided he can only do so much about the bloodstains, so he just ended up leaving most of it there. Now all there was left to do was run, but he had to admit; the two slanting, bleeding cuts across his face did nothing to make him inconspicuous.


	2. Anger and Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm kind of adding more to my original plot than I already had, but that's okay because now it's a little more interesting! I hope. Anyway, added "Graphic Depictions of Violence" to the warning tags, so yeah. (Also, writing for lisps is really confusing.)

On a lazy Monday afternoon, a tall, hooded man was bound to draw the occasional passerby’s attention. With every wary look, Gamzee’s nerves wound tighter and tighter. Voices whisper in his head, telling him to do horrible things that he struggles to ignore. Finally fed up with his growing paranoia, Gamzee ducks into a nearby Subway’s to get a soda and calm himself down.

The fast food restaurant was completely empty, save a lone worker lounges against the counter, cigarette hanging precariously from his lower lip. Gamzee grumbles to himself, shuffling up to the front of the room. An irrational anger fills him as the worker flicks cigarette ash onto the linoleum floor and asks, “What do you want?”

Gamzee had long since found out that in his sober state he tended to shout if he allowed himself to get irritated for long periods of time. That’s why he had perfected a sort of shorthand way of talking. “Soda, large,” he utters quickly.

“What was that?” the worker (his nametag said “Cronus”) has the nerve to lean forward, a superior look on his face.

Releasing a guttural grumble, Gamzee repeats, “Soda, large, _please_.”

A snort, “What are you, some kind of retar—” Gamzee lunges across the counter, grabbing Cronus by the collar and pulling him forward. There’s a moment of silence where the only sound is their combined and harsh breathing.

“Get me a motherfucking large drink or I’ll strangle you with your own vocal cords, motherfucker.” The employee bobs his head in agreement before scrambling to grab a large cup and setting it on the counter. Gamzee guesses that the man would have let him take his drink for free, but he slams down the payment anyway. He turns sharply to find the soda machine and fills up the cup as someone comes out from a door behind the counter.

“CRONUS! What did I tell you about smoking at the cash register! If you need a break, then _ask_.” Gamzee gazes sideways as Cronus gets chewed out by his boss. The worker walks out the back door with his head hung low as Gamzee caps his drink and steps outside.

_No one would even miss him. A COMPLETE WASTE OF SPACE. It’s bound to happen sometime. SO MUCH BLOOD._ Hurried voices drifted in and out of Gamzee’s consciousness, causing a pulsating headache. Suddenly, he’s plunged into a chilly darkness as the walls of an alley rise up around him. A hollow wind tugs at Gamzee’s hoodie, pulling him forward. The sane piece of his mind fights to turn himself around, but no. He was too far gone.

Stumbling around the side of the building, Gamzee can only focus on the person now in front of him. It was Cronus; so weak, so fragile in his eyes. So easily broken. 

Cronus’ lighter seems to fall in slow motion as he notices the familiar teen appear not but ten feet away. Gamzee smiles at the other’s shaky step back. His speech becomes smoother and more dangerous as he comes closer to Cronus. “You caught me on the wrong day, motherfucker. YOU CAUGHT ME ON THE WRONG MOTHERFUCKING DAY AND I’LL KILL YOU. You think you can just all up and downgrade me. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M MOTHERFUCKING CAPABLE OF. Beg for your forgiveness, motherfucker. BEG FOR YOUR MOTHERFUCKING FORGIVENESS, YOU PIECE OF TRASH.”

Knees knocking, Cronus lowers himself slowly to the ground, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, man. I-I didn’t mean it. Leave me be, I’m begging on my knees here.” A rumbling chuckle scrapes through the air between them. Gamzee’s head was lost in a churning sea of ‘ _finish him off_ ’s and ‘ _kill him now_ ’s as a wicked grin stretches his scarred face.

“Too late, motherfucker.” Before Cronus even has the chance to react, Gamzee rears his foot back and lands a blow to the side of his head. The man on the ground is thrown a few feet until his head meets the concrete with a sharp _crack!_

A scream cuts its way past Cronus’ lips as Gamzee grabs the front of his shirt. In a blind rage, Gamzee begins slamming his victim’s head again and again against the hard ground. Blood seeps across the alley, painting it in red. The voices scream for more, covering up Cronus’ own dying yells. _Blood, yes. SO BEAUTIFUL. Almost enough. YOU NEVER FAIL US, GAMZEE._ The last thought carried a note of affection that causes him to pause. The voices had always been merciless in his dreams and even more so in his sobriety. But never… _loving_.

Slowly drifting out of his hazy state, Gamzee’s eyes grow wide. He staggers backwards, licking off a bit of blood from his hand. Heart thumping loudly in his ears and hands shaking in his pockets, Gamzee rushes out of the alley and strides away.

He’d never hurt someone so badly and blindly, but he’d just felt so _angry_. He’d felt so angry and it scared him. It scared him that he couldn’t stop himself from murder. Gamzee listens to the voices in his head and is surprised to find them calm and subdued. Maybe this killing thing wasn’t so bad after all.

 

“All I’m thaying ith that you thouldn’t be walking around empty threeths at night, AA.”

Aradia sighs, “It was hardly nighttime and he ran away as soon as he saw me! Besides, I turned right around and went back. It’s not like I followed him or anything!”

“Whatever, jutht be careful, okay? Apparently thith guy in the next town over went and, like, killed hith whole neighborhood!”

Slamming her locker door closed, Aradia giggles. “Oh please, you’re exaggerating, Sollux! I bet he just ran over a cat or something. And you don’t have to worry about me so much, so just go hang out with your girlfriend and stop fussing over _me_.”

Sollux flinches, looking a little hurt. Feeling guilty, Aradia offers a smile and pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I jutht…you allwayth go off on your wreakleth adventureth without telling anyone and,” Sollux lowers his voice as they pass a more populated part of the hallway, “ghothts aren’t the motht truthtworthy people.”

“Oh don’t I know it! But yeah, I’ll try to be more careful now, thanks Sol.”

Sollux grins in relief, pushing his odd, red and blue glasses further up his nose. “Anyway,” Aradia begins, “a few of the kids from the orphanage and I are coming with Aranea to see Vriska be lowered into her grave, so I’m leaving early.”

“Oh, but how will I thurvive?”

Aradia rolls her eyes. “Oh I’m sure you’ll have Feferi to keep you sane!” 

“Yeah, but what about you? Don’t want a repeat of the Tompthon funeral, now do we?”

“I was just trying to make friendly conversation with the man, but he started freaking out! I swear, I didn’t mean to raise my voice so much, but I’d never seen such an anxious spirit!”

Sollux gives the girl a sidelong glance. “I’m talking about the party popperth.”

“Okay, I admit, not one of my smarter moments.”

“And the bottle rocketh.”

“You’ll just never let me live that one down will you,” Aradia says, shoving Sollux’s side playfully. The bell rings just as the duo enters their classroom. Aradia settles into her seat. She couldn’t help but buzz in anticipation, despite Sollux’s warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Everytime I got a hit or kudo I got really excited and that's probably why I was so motivated to finish this chapter so soon, so thank you!


	3. Creepy Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aradia and Gamzee finally talk and Cronus overstays his welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should learn to get used to completely disregarding my previous notes, because I'm winging most of this. Anyway, I should probably mention: Post-Scratch trolls=Teenagers, Pre-Scratch trolls=in their 20's, Ancestors=all of their parents'. The ancestors most likely won't show up at all, but again, don't listen to me. (This chapter is so big because usually I give myself a goal of at least 1,000 words, but wow!) Also, made a few revisions to Cronus' speech patterns.

Shoes dragging the ground, Aradia walks through the town after Vriska’s burial. She was feeling a bit lonely after Serket’s ghost had eventually faded away. Although the spirits kept good and interesting company, they never stayed for very long. Well, except her parents, which Aradia was glad for. She supposes to an outsider, she might have an exceptional sob story; parents who died while she was in her teen years, a sister who up and abandoned her shortly after their death. Aradia isn’t sure what her life would be like without her gift, but she has a feeling it wouldn’t be good.

Although, seeing ghosts definitely had its downsides. Like celebrating death like one would a birthday. And clapping as a loved one was being lowered into the ground. Which Aradia _totally_ did not do just an hour prior. Totally.

Either way, she was feeling very down in the dumps until coming across a parked police cruiser. Aradia probably would have walked right past it if her ears hadn’t picked up on the sound of angry yelling. 

“NO! He went THAT way!” the voice echoes from a nearby alley, “You don’t understand, guy was crazy!”

Tentatively, Aradia steps around the corner only to have her way be blocked by police tape. Further down the alleyway was a cluster of investigators next to an intersecting alley and behind a building that obstructed her view of seeing the scene. Glancing around for an idea of what was going on, she catches sight of a figure off to the side, practically screaming at the people around him.

“Excuse me,” Aradia calls cautiously, trying to keep her voice down so that the police wouldn’t hear. The man stops his ranting long enough to look over at the girl, eyes squinting against the late afternoon light. Curious, he walks towards her, stopping at the yellow tape.

“What are you doing out here, kid? And how are you talking to me, aren’t I dead?”

Aradia bristles slightly, but just shrugs. “Does it really matter? Also, I could hear your whining from a mile away.”

He rolls his eyes, “Whatever. And screw you; I had to go through emotional turmoil _all day_ , what with their poking and prodding of my dead corpse. Bloody mess! They just covered up my body and toted me away. A dark day in the life of Cronus Ampora! Want in on a little secret?”

“No, but I’ll humor you anyways.”

Cronus leans in closer and whispers, “I was _murdered_.”

Aradia tilts her head quizzically to the side, “By whom?”

“I don’t know, some creep with anger issues.”

“Well that doesn’t really help, now does it?”

Looking slightly miffed, Cronus leans away, “Now don’t be rude! Ever heard of respecting your elders?”

“I’d hardly consider you elderly! And I’m just trying to be helpful. You’re lucky I haven’t left by now.”

“Eh, it’s okay, chief, I—oh my God.” Aradia raises an eyebrow and follows the spirit’s awestruck gaze. Across the street stood a teenage boy stood tall. Or, _would_ have stood tall if not for the stoop of his shoulders. Two white scars show pale against his tanned skin and a mass of wavy, black hair hangs over part of his face. He was staring over at them but jumps a little when Aradia turns his way. They watch as the boy spins around and walks down the sidewalk and out of their view.

Aradia leans out of the alley, hands on her cheeks and eyes wide. “Is _he_ the one who killed you? I’ve seen him before!”

Cronus darts out onto the sidewalk and calls, “You can’t run now! This young lady here’ll get the authorities! See, she—WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?

As Cronus was shouting, Aradia had slipped past him and was now hurrying after the absconding boy. The streets were fairly clear, so she didn’t have much of a problem following him. Still hearing Cronus’ furious raving pursuing her, Aradia giggles. She knew she was being unreasonably gleeful, but the mysterious stranger just fascinated her. For some reason, he didn’t scare her the slightest bit.

Aradia slows down as she nears the diner that the towering boy walked into. Unsure if she should go inside, the girl instead peers through the window to find the boy sitting in a booth in close proximity to her. Feeling a bout of childishness, Aradia ducks down and peeks over the ledge just in time to see the waitress leave his table.

“Now I’m never one to judge,” Aradia starts at the sound of Cronus crouching next to her, “but this is extremely weird.”

“Maybe _I’m_ extremely weird.” She had long since given up trying to be polite with this man. Cronus holds his hands up defensively and turns back to the window.

“Just a little bizarre that you’re crushing on my killer.”

Aradia sighs, a blush dusting her cheeks, “I’m not ‘crushing’, I just…think he’s interesting is all.”

“Mm hm…” Cronus squints down at her, “hey, no need to be embarrassed or anything. He actually IS quite the looker. You know, if he wasn’t so much younger and a _murderer_. Actually, this would make a good poem. _I stared straight into his empathetic eyes_ —”

The two are interrupted in their bickering by a loud tapping sound. Snapping her head up, Aradia is mortified to find the boy in the diner staring down at her with dark brown eyes. Cronus raises a delicate eyebrow as he gestures for Aradia to join him.

Brushing off invisible dirt from her hoodie and ripped jeans, Megido turns to the door. As she’s stepping inside, Cronus mumbles, “I can’t believe this,” to which Aradia waves away.

Out of habit, Aradia avoids walking on all of the cracks of the checkered floor as she makes her way to the waiting boy. He looks up as she sits down with a small smirk on his face. Aradia offers a nervous smile back as the waitress returns with a coffee and a slice of pie. “Would you like anything, miss?”

Plucking anxiously at her sleeves, Aradia glances across the table. The boy nods, his voice coming out a little harsh and gravelly, but surprisingly pleasant, “She’ll have a cheeseburger and fries with a chocolate milkshake.”

The waitress leaves and Aradia looks at the boy sheepishly. “You didn’t have to get me anything! I don’t even know your name.”

“Gamzee.”

“Hm?”

“My name’s Gamzee Makara. And it’s no motherfucking problem. Need to burn off all of this money anyways.”

“Oh. Well, I’m Aradia Megido! We seem to keep running into each other, ha-ha.”

“Yeah, but I don’t motherfucking mind much. Could use some good company.”

Aradia nods, fiddling now with the strings on her hoodie, unsure what to say. For a supposedly insane killer, he was shockingly mild-mannered. 

“What’s that?”

Jerking herself out of her daze Aradia looks up. “What’s what?”

“That,” Gamzee points to her clothes.

Glancing down at her hoodie, Aradia smiles. “Oh, it’s from Pacman! The red ghost, Blinky, I think.” She’d gotten the attire as a sort of inside joke with herself and Sollux whenever they’d been dating. He’d rolled his eyes and called her a dork and she’d worn it for a solid week until Kanaya demanded it to be washed. 

Now, Gamzee just nods, gazing at her with a sort of dazed curiosity. Shuffling around in her seat, Aradia tries to pick up the conversation again. “So do you live somewhere close by? I’ve never seen you at school. How old are you anyway?”

Chuckling, Gamzee takes another bite of his pie. Aradia thinks it might be lemon meringue. “I’m not exactly up and dwelling in any sort of motherfucking solid structures,” Gamzee starts, “I’ve been kind of drifting about and living wherever. I’m seventeen.”

Aradia nods. “That’s cool I guess…anyway, I’m fifteen! I live at the orphanage on the edge of town.” She braces herself for him to give her some sort of apology, but instead Aradia gets a response she wasn’t really expecting.

“Too bad. All of my family is locked up, insane, or gone and died,” Gamzee says, a knowing grin on his face that made her smile back for some reason.

A few moments later, the waitress returns with Aradia’s food and the two eat in comfortable silence. Gamzee eyes Aradia in amusement as she dips her french fries in her milkshake, but says nothing. All of the silent watching makes her a little uneasy until she finally finishes her meal.

“So,” Gamzee begins, “why’d you start stalkin’ me around?”

Aradia grimaces at first in shame, but then remembers her initial reasoning. “Well I heard somewhere that you…killed someone.”

Gamzee’s face drains and she rushes to correct herself. “I’m not going to rat you out or anything! I just think it’s kind of cool. I’ve always been fascinated by death.”

“Even murder?” Aradia gulps nervously at his grave tone, but just nods. “You shouldn’t take the matters of death lightly, motherfucker. Not a happy place.”

With that, Gamzee stands and grabs a bag off of the bench, placing a few bills on the table before leaving. Aradia sits still and shocked for a second. She could definitely see how the boy could be perceived as intimidating. 

Wondering what she got herself into and being somewhat excited by it, Aradia walks back to the orphanage, crossing the threshold just at about six thirty. Aranea stops her in the hallway and gives a lecture about cutting so close to being out past dusk, to which Aradia stays quiet during and apologizes at the end. 

Slipping into the common room, she perches in the seat next to Kanaya, who gives a smile in greeting before turning back to her knitting. Aradia spends most of the night thinking about Gamzee and wondering how many people he’s killed.

 

Across town, Gamzee was just settling himself next to a questionable dumpster and using his duffle bag as a pillow. For some reason, he’d felt a little distraught about Aradia’s enthusiasm about him being a murderer. Not to mention, his appearance made him hardly approachable. Either way, Gamzee was hardly thrilled about his past (or his future for that matter). What he _was_ remarkably pleased to ponder about was whether or not he’d cross paths with the younger girl anytime soon.


	4. Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I now have a Tumblr ((serenitysswirl)), so if you want to talk to me about _anything_ then please do! Sorry for the lack of modivation induced break, to anyone who is still reading this story.

After a morning of eyeballing the homeless man residing further down the alley, Gamzee figures it would be best if he started moving again. He actually wasn’t sure if anyone was looking for him or not. Since Gamzee had left home, there were never any signs of search or at least concern that he was missing. Of course, he didn’t exactly think there would be western-style “WANTED” posters hung around, but either way, he was still on edge.

The voices in Gamzee’s head unfortunately did nothing to soothe this. There was also the fact that these past few days have been the longest he’s gone without medication. His family didn’t have the cleanest track-record concerning sanity.

Gamzee goes and grabs a pastry and coffee (with plenty of cream and sugar) before wondering around the calmer parts of the town. After walking aimlessly for a few blocks, he comes across a park. Through some trees and down a path stands a rusty swing set and dilapidated slide. The playground was barren, as was expected for so early on a Tuesday, so Gamzee perches himself on a swing a rocks himself soothingly. 

By the time he finished his food, Gamzee’s mind was sharp and unclouded. Voices murmured at the back of his brain and his eyes grow wide. The caffeine rushes through his veins, causing his fingers to tap out a jittery tune on the chain of the swing. He needed to burn off this energy, for it felt as if his skin was bubbling and his whole body was on fire. 

In front of him, a young woman passes, headphones engulfing her ears as her shoes slap against the concrete path. _It’d be so easy. JUST REACH OUT AND GRAB HER. You were doing such a wonderful job, Gamzee. YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER._ Gamzee squeezes his eyes shut as the catcalls slam against the edges of his mind. He can’t stop his body from moving, though. 

Launching himself from the swing, Gamzee rushes forward. He was getting so close to the girl. So close. In a fit of pure desperation, the boy flings himself to the right, slamming his head into the metal of the dirty slide. The voices release a single screech before fading away. A sluggish smile worms its way onto Gamzee’s face as he slips to the ground. His whole head throbbed with pain, but at least another person was safe.

The distant feel of sharp gravel biting into his cheek keeps Gamzee tethered to the ground. There was no possible way he could stand. Of course, this means that he’s left with his thoughts.

In his daze, a bout of self-loathing resurfaces in Gamzee’s mind. He always found a certain thrill in killing. It was just the heat of the moment emotion, body yelling that this was the thing to do. Despite this, he always felt a little put out that other people wouldn’t feel the same. He wished for some sort of acceptance. A person who would understand or at least sympathize…Finding no savior only made him feel even more trapped and alone. This was, in fact, the reason he ran away in the first place. _Or maybe it’s because you killed the only ones who cared._ Growling, Gamzee shoves his head into the ground, vision going black, mind going blank.

After several hours of drifting in and out of consciousness, Gamzee struggles to sit up, a dull ache resounding in his skull. The sun was high and seemed to be on its descent through the puffy white cloud masses. He spends a good ten to fifteen minutes just watching the sky. It really was relaxing, Gamzee had to admit. His mind had always been either too strung out or too dizzy on meds to enjoy little things like cloud watching.

Pulling himself shakily to his feet, Gamzee glances around. He figures the playground must be almost always vacated, because no one was nearby to be concerned about a passed-out teenager with a small gash on his head.  
Slogging down a path, Gamzee only feels numb. His bones ached, his head ached, and his spirit drooped. He really needed someone to bring him out of this slump. 

 

Aradia hurries up the stairs to her bedroom, backpack knocking harshly against the railing. Flinging open her bedroom door, she tosses her things onto the floor and collapses onto her bed. “Ahem…” Aradia glances up to see Kanaya in the doorway.

“Hi Kanaya!”

The other girl enters cautiously, gingerly siting on her bed. “I wanted to mention something to you.”

Aradia sits up, “What is it? Sounds serious.”

“I suppose it is. Well, someone is looking to adopt me.”

“Really?” Aradia squeals, flinging herself next to Kanaya and giving her a squeeze, “That’s fantastic!” Maryam breaks into a smile, nodding.

After Aradia lets go, she stands, saying, “If you end up getting adopted, then we’ll have to throw you a going away party! Parties always cheer people up.” 

Kanaya’s face glows. “Yes,” she says, “I think I’d like that.”

Both girls decide to start early on their homework, occasionally asking a question, but otherwise staying in a content silence. Aradia wasn’t sure how she felt about her roommate moving. Kanaya had always been there for her to get advice and comfort from. She was actually starting to get a little upset just thinking about it.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk,” Aradia blurts, rising to her feet, “If Aranea asks, tell her that I’ll be back soon.” Kanaya’s response is thrown at her back as she leaves and closes the door, feeling unusually tense.

About ten minutes later, Aradia finds herself wandering around town, the breeze playfully tugging at her hair. She was standing on a street corner, the brick of the building behind her digging into her back, when she feels a tug on her sleeve. “Hey little sis.”

Jumping at the voice, Aradia spins around with a gasp. Towering above her was a slumped Gamzee. She tilts her head at the happy glint in his eyes that was thrown in with his otherwise emotionless expression. “Hello Gamzee! What’s up?”

The boy shrugs, putting a little more distance between them. “Wanted to know if you felt like getting your motherfucking conversation on,” Gamzee grumbles, motioning for Aradia to follow.

The odd pair walks side by side down the street until they reach a bench. Gamzee slips onto the seat while Aradia sits with a little bounce, trying to hide her excitement. “So…” Gamzee starts, “you wanted to know about my twisted past?”

“Yes,” Aradia nods, “If you wouldn’t mind sharing! I could get some stuff off my chest too.” 

Makara raises an eyebrow then looks away, “we all got our skeletons. Now, I’m going to all up and explain what went down, so hush.” Aradia nods solemnly, closing her eyes to his voice.

“I’ve never actually been…stable. After my bro Kurloz got slammed in the nut house, they started putting me on meds. My dad never was around, but I had friends…well, I did.”

Aradia pops open her eyes at his tone. “What happened to them?”

Gamzee subconsciously drags his fingers across the two slashes on his face. “I usually kept up with taking the meds…but sometimes I just couldn’t take it. They made me all dumb and with no emotions. Whenever I stopped, I got these motherfucking voices screaming in my think pan, telling me what to do. 

“Best motherfucking friend came over, all concerned and shit. He was my neighbor for years and just popped up at my door. I stabbed him ten times in the chest.”

Aradia’s eyes go wide with surprise. The story gave her chills down her arms, but yet she wasn’t afraid. She finds herself eagerly waiting for the rest.

“Another one came a little after. My boyfriend,” Gamzee halts a slightly at his own words, but continues, “By then I was already hyped up on the first kill. He’s asking me what’s the matter and what’s going on, but I just push him to my bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he’s yelling at me…I don’t know what I would of done if the voices hadn’t been screaming at me to grab the knife.”

Gamzee then leads Aradia’s hand over his scars. “I put these on me as a reminder over how much damage I can do…couldn’t bring myself to grab my meds though. Don’t want to be messing with that kind of black magic. My dad paid me off to leave. Sure he doesn’t want me being found. Bad for business. ‘Course, _someone’s_ probably all out and searching for justice.”

“What kind of business does your dad do?” Aradia asks.

Gamzee shrugs, “Sells oddball things. From voodoo to shirts. He has quite a bit of power, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he keeps the whole situation under wraps.”

Swinging her feet, Aradia thinks. The boy next to her didn’t _seem_ bad. She didn’t really get why people made such a fuss about it. Everyone just needed to celebrate life and death. If only they could see that death wasn’t the end.

“What about you?” Gamzee asks, bumping into Aradia’s arm.

“Okay, well…my parents died in a car accident last year. Some idiot ran a red light and they were both killed on the spot. The next day I found them. Of course they were thrilled that I could see them! But…” the boy raises an eyebrow and Aradia sighs, “My sister Damara thought I was crazy, and I think our parents were disappointed in her for not believing me. It wasn’t long before Damara dropped me off at the orphanage. I tried to follow her, but she just, like, disappeared. I’ve kept in contact with my mom and dad ever since then, but I just couldn’t tell them that Damara ran away, so I always lie. And I guess I’m not afraid of people dying anymore because I can see them right afterwards.”

Gamzee just nods and glances over to see if there’s anything more. “My roommate,” Aradia continues, “she might get adopted, and she was one of my closest friends. I mean, I have others, but she specifically helped me out a lot when I was ever in trouble. I wonder if it would be better if she died so that I could see her all the time, but I guess that’s pretty selfish.”

“I could…uh, take care of it,” Gamzee offers.

Aradia pauses, but shakes her head. “No, I don’t want her killed. She deserves better.”

Tilting his head in understanding, Gamzee stands and helps the girl up. “I think we’ve had enough of that depressed talk,” he says, “see you around, sister.”

The talk teen strides away and Aradia can’t help but notice a bounce in his step. Even as she walks home, she can’t help but feel a little bit lighter herself.


	5. Not Dead Quite Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a chapter is posted and the plot is progressed (a little).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Guess who's back, back again.) I could play the blame-game over why this took so long, but really it was my own fault, so blame me. This chapter is...a little slow? I guess that's for you to decide. I don't know what else to say, other than enjoy!

“Oh, hello Aradia! How are you?”

Aradia turns around at the voice, grinning. “I’m doing just fine Feferi! I trust you are doing just as well?”

Giggling a bubbly laugh, Feferi nods, resting a manicured hand on the school library’s bookshelf. “You know it! I’m just looking for some books on pet fish. All the fish I own are being eaten by Glub-Glub! I’m hoping there’s a way to stop her, but I haven’t found anything so far.”

Smiling kindly, Aradia helps the Peixes pick out a few books she could use. “So,” Megido starts as they walk towards the librarian’s desk, “how is Sollux doing? Any embarrassing stories?”

“Isn’t there always? He forgot to book movie tickets for tonight, so we decided to just go out tomorrow.” The girls chat idly as they exit the room and enter the hallway.

“Hey guyth.” Aradia whirls around to see Sollux, backpack slung over his shoulder. Feferi walks over to him with a smile and plants a careful kiss on his cheek. 

Raising her hand in a short wave, Aradia says, “Hi Sollux! Was Gym as grueling as ever?”

“Don’t mock me, AA. Gym’th fucking hard, alright?” he huffs, shifting to place a hand on the small of Feferi’s back as they continue down the hallway.

“It’s okay Sol, we know you try your very best,” Feferi says confidently, squeezing her boyfriend’s side.

Aradia giggles to herself as Sollux rolls his eyes. “Tho Aradia,” he says, “I hear that Kanaya ith moving out.”

Aradia sighs, “Yes, she’s been adopted. I’ll miss her, but I’m happy for her!”

“And you still have us,” Feferi chimes in, “don’t you?”

Laughing, Aradia nods, “yes, I suppose I do!”

Despite her reassurance, by the end of the day, Aradia was almost shaking with nerves. They were having their send-off party for Kanaya that night and she wasn’t sure if she could handle seeing her roommate go.

As soon as Aradia returns home, she latches on to Kanaya’s wrist and guides her up to their room. Ignoring the other’s protests, Aradia shuts the door firmly behind them.

“Is everything alright, Aradia?” Kanaya asks with concern. The Megido steps forward and wraps her in a hug.

“I’m going to miss you. I think I might have taken you for granted sometimes.”

Kanaya sits the clinging girl down on her bed and pets the other girl’s hair. “Oh Aradia,” she coos, “I know I’ll be missed by you, but I think that you’ll be alright. You have other people to seek comfort in, correct?”

Aradia feels a bit guilty about the hint of concern in her roommate’s voice. She was being kind of selfish, wasn’t she? “Yes, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry, Kanaya, you don’t want to think about this right before you leave! You have a party to get on with!” She jumps to her feet, pushing unwanted thoughts to the back of her mind.

“I’m actually quite flattered that you made such a connection to me, Aradia,” Kanaya says, standing from her seat, “Usually people aren’t too eager when it comes to my assistance in these matters.”

“Oh don’t be silly!” Aradia says, already slowly beginning to feeling cheery once again. She takes her friend’s hand and leads her into the hallway where the young occupants of the second floor were loitering outside the room, suddenly perking up. A few ventured over to Kanaya, congratulating her with hugs and excited hand gestures. Although Kanaya was not the most popular of the orphanage, the people who knew her took a great liking to her. Well, most took a great liking to her. It was a you-love-her-or-you-hate-her sort of situation with no gray area in between.

Aradia allows herself to fade into the background and observe. She rather enjoyed people-watching, she had to admit. They were just so uniquely interesting and that intrigued her to no end. Each a separate story, a separate life (a separate death). She shakes the thought away as the group flocks towards the stairs at the end of the hallway, Aradia following behind.

Don’t get her wrong, parties were great! She loved the sensation of the excited energy in the air and forgetting all her problems. Tonight, however, she just wasn’t feeling it. 

The hoard of children and teens head down the single flight of stairs, converging with a group coming down from the third floor. Some of them looked reasonably jealous. It wasn’t often that someone of Kanaya’s age was adopted. Another portion seemed either genuinely happy for the Maryam, or just eager for the party. The most excitement they got in one night was when Aranea would pull out a movie she brought for them all to watch. And after the _Saw Two_ incident, they were only limited to either Disney classics or other cartoons that Aranea skimmed through beforehand.

Aradia watches Kanaya be led away in her melancholy haze. The swarm of people ahead of her reach the ground floor as she hangs back. She wasn’t really sure why she was so sad over Kanaya leaving. The two had never been close so much as they were there when the other needed assistance.

Still, something itched at the back of Aradia’s mind as she reaches the foyer and peers into the lounge. Kids were scattered about the room, thrown over chairs and sofas and beanbags. Kanaya sits near the center of the room, laughing along with a few of the other teenagers that lived there. In the corner was the usual blocky television, droning on about the weather. The curtains were open, throwing the room into a sort of immaculate golden glow. 

The glare of the sun on the wood floor was practically blinding Aradia as she perches herself on a chair near the drinks. A table had been set up along a wall filled with plenty of juice and even a gallon or two of soda. This surprised Aradia, who figured that since Aranea had most likely set the whole thing up that there wouldn’t be anything too sugary. But maybe because Serket had been going through a rough patch, she wanted to keep herself busy somehow and was feeling a bit generous.

Shuffling in her seat, Aradia realizes the small amount of friends she actually did have. She was feeling kind of awkward, although she’d only been sitting there for a few moments. In fact, it felt as if everyone’s eyes were bearing down on her (which of course wasn’t true, but Aradia was feeling a tad anxious). 

Huffing in frustration at herself, Aradia slinks over to the television where a few others were lazily watching. She sits carefully on the ground in front of the set. It had now moved on to the regular news and Aradia perks up a bit. She fully realized how morbid she was when it came to some things and that was why, when the reports of murders and crime suspects popped up, Aradia felt no shame when her eyes glued themselves to the screen. What could she say? She liked what she liked.

The news anchor was finishing up a report on a holdup at a bank when the shot is cut to a reporter standing inside a building, the words _“Prospit Police Station”_ were projected on the bottom of the screen. Aradia recognizes the name of the next town over and watches with interest. 

Aradia listens to the news reporter and watches in rapt attention. _“Last week two boys were found dead in the Makara household,”_ Aradia’s heart jumps to her throat at the name, _“Lord Makara, homeowner and founder of Highblood Industries, was not present at the time. His son Gamzee, however, had strangely disappeared from the house by the time Mr. Makara had returned home,”_ casually glancing around, Aradia notices that no one was paying attention to the television besides her. Gulping, she turns back with adrenaline pounding in her ears. The story was getting her oddly excited. _“Teenagers Karkat Vantas’ and Tavros Nitram’s causes of death were both pronounced as murder on Monday, and are scheduled for burial this Friday. The only suspect investigators have in this case is Makara’s son Gamzee. I’m here with lead investigator, Ms. ‘Neophyte’ Pyrope, who might be able to shed some light on this mystery.”_

The camera turns to show a woman with dark hair, red-tinted glasses, and a rather toothy smile. _“Yes, well,”_ Pyrope begins, _“My daughter was a very good friend of one of the boys. Don’t fret! I will do everything in my power to find justice!”_ she dramatically waves her fist in the air, _“I do smell something a bit fishy about this case…it seems that there are people who are very UNWILLING to—”_ It was then that the screen freezes and glitches. Aradia looks up to glare at the kids around her, assuming someone had tampered with the device, but, surprisingly, there was no one within the vicinity of the television besides herself. She stares forward in confusion as the news switches back to the main newsroom. The anchor says something about losing the connection and continues on to the next story. 

Aradia sits there in a mild shock. So…Gamzee _had_ killed those two boys. And people were after him, no less! There was something about the story that made her uneasy. Hadn’t Gamzee mentioned that his father would probably want to cover up the story? She could only imagine what would happen to the business if the story got out. And how would Mr. Makara react to Gamzee? The teen hadn’t talked very affectionate of his father and Aradia worried the man would be abusive with him.

By the time Aradia stands up she had come to a decision. She walks across the room, weaving through the furniture and people, and stops to give Kanaya a quick hug. Before she can ask any questions, Aradia is hurrying out of the room, across the foyer, and out the big oak doors.

 

Gamzee stands, propped up on a brick wall in an alley. He was a bit tired of wandering and, in all honesty, wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. His mind was like a café during rush-hour; thoughts were scattered about and vouching for his attention, sometimes he could hardly hear himself think over the chatter clogging up his think pan. Desperately needing some sort of clarity, he’d sought out Aradia, but the pounding in his ears was making his legs weak.

“Gamzee?” The teen looks up at the hesitant call. And there she was, dressed in a nice red blouse and a long black skirt. It seemed as if she was dressing up for something, since her usual style was slightly more casual.

Throwing up a hand, Gamzee calls back, “Hey, wicked sis.” His eyes follow Aradia as she picks her way towards him, her feet slapping loudly against the ground. The noise was enough to suppress some of the calamity in Gamzee’s head. 

“I’m glad you were nearby,” Aradia says, leaning against the wall next to him, “I, um, heard some news.”

Gamzee notices the crease in her forehead, “Aw I’m sure it ain’t nothing to get your head all up in a worry about.”

She smiles sadly, “But I think it might be. They’re looking for you, Gamzee. I don’t want you to get caught!”

Gamzee wavers in his thought. How could she be so concerned? He wasn’t worth the dirt on the bottom of her shoes and yet, here she was. Even Gamzee didn’t quite trust himself from turning and hurting her, but she still came around, even with all she knew. At first, Gamzee had mostly been looking for someone to confide in, to scrape some guilt off his chest. Never had he even considered the possibility of having an acquaintance of any sort.

Realizing Aradia had been speaking, he tunes in, “—a funeral for those two boys this Friday. I think you should go, maybe you’ll get some closure then.” She looks up at him with her chocolaty-brown eyes and Gamzee can’t help but smile.

He nods down at her, “I think that’s a miraculous idea, but only if you were up for tagging along, that is.”

Aradia looks surprised. She works her hand through a knot of her hair and thinks. “Well…” she says, “I don’t have the best track record when it comes to that sort of thing, but if it will help you, then I think I will be able to control myself.”

Gamzee raises an eyebrow at this and she sputters and turns red. He pats her head roughly, “It’s all good little sis. Meet me on Friday when you can.” 

Nodding, Aradia turns to go, “I should probably head back; Aranea would throw a fit if she knew I had snuck away. See you later, Gamzee!” And with that the girl turns and heads back down the alley. Once she was out of view, Gamzee slumps back against the wall.

What he really wanted to focus on was the fact that he had to face his friends’ funeral and the consequences of being caught, but the voices in his head were back full force. _She seems different. I LIKE HER. She could join us. HELP US SPILL THE BLOOD. We’re so thirsty. SO MOTHERFUCKING THIRSTY FOR BLOOD. Help us, Gamzee. DON’T FAIL._


End file.
